


he's not safe, but he's good

by blastellanos



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: F/M, Infidelity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 18:37:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10622757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blastellanos/pseuds/blastellanos
Summary: So he acts like nothing is different, even though he lives his life like marking off a to-do list every single day.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thesaddestboner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesaddestboner/gifts).



> Doing this for fun; no slander intended. Title is from C.S. Lewis.

James can’t quite remember when -- or how -- it all started. It almost feels like it always was, even though he knows that can’t be true. It feels like these things come around like a cycle. It starts and then ebbs then comes back in full force. He’s not exactly reaching out in the offseason. He’s not exactly begging. There’s just the low hum of excitement as spring training gets closer and closer and he knows it’s not just getting back to work that’s making him feel like that.

So he acts like nothing is different, even though he lives his life like marking off a to-do list every single day.

Number one, kiss his wife and tell her he loves her. This is an important step for James; the almost automatically wanting to affirm that he’s married, heterosexual, good Christian who loves his wife until death do him part -- forever and ever amen.

Number two, shower. 

In the shower is when he thinks about  _ it _ . It’s a safe place, where everywhere else is not. Where he can press his forehead to steam warmed tile, braced with one hand against the wall and the other he tries not to let it take him over. But he closes his eyes to rinse his hair and James always sees  _ it _ .

Warm brown eyes, soft dark hair, dark skin, pink lips-- mouth slightly open or pressed in a line of anger, or wrapped around his cock or pressed to the soft skin at the base of his throat. It’s the last in particular that usually gets him. Just James thinking of that intimacy. More than the sex. More than just that heat of passion. Just that  _ moment _ .

Thinks about nice hands gripping at his skin, fingertips digging in. The feeling isn’t exactly shame as he wraps his fingers around himself and jerks himself off, thinking about his team mate and coming on his pretty, perfect face.

Number three, pretend like nothing is wrong. 

He and Jessica sit on the couch, tucked up together with their coffee and the bible and he tries to think Godly thoughts as they go over the part they’re on. He listens to Jessica read with his eyes half closed and tries to focus, but as usual, her voice lulls him and it’s background noise as he drifts back in his own mind. 

At least he still knows all the words to say, the places to nod, to make it seem less like he’s not paying attention. Always after  _ forgive me Father, for I have sinned. _

Number four, he goes to a private confessional. Where he kneels down at the edge of his bed like he’s praying and all he’s praying for is forgiveness. For cheating. For emotional distance. For thinking about how good it’s going to feel when they get back together again. For wanting, coveting, desiring to get his hands back on José. 

Number five, he and Jessica go and work out together. He holds her feet as she does sit-ups and she throws BP for him. They run together side-by-side on the treadmill and listen to good Christian music and she talks about faith and James tries to feel it for the moment.

Number six, he questions.

In Lakeland it’s different though. When they report, pitchers and catchers and James feels fuzzy. Listens to the rookies with a sort of half an ear. Tries to be good. Alex Avila is back and that brings back memories. (Because this was the cycle, right? He was there when it started, gone in the middle, is him coming back an ending?) 

He talks to Boyd, to Norris, to Verlander. About nothing of importance. Talks up how great his winter was. His offseason. Embellishes the happiness he’s supposed to feel with enough detail where it doesn’t ring hollow out loud like it does in his head. 

Number seven, he steals away the first chance he gets with José. He never questions God in these moments. In this, his faith doesn’t waver. (For as wrong as it is-- he’s married, José’s married, this is against his faith -- he feels like this is some sort of absolution.)

When they kiss, the first time since hazy September nights, it’s like something clicks back on track and it’s good. José’s hair is so short, James’ nails catch against his scalp, and he grips the back of his neck like it’s a lifeline with his fingertips digging in until José hisses in a breath and he has to let go. 

The doubt creeps in, immediately. That feeling never lasts long-- that feeling of this is right. José’s not safe, but he’s good. It’s dangerous and James feels himself closer and closer to Hell the more he gives in. José touches James’ face, slides his fingers down his jaw. 

“ _ Te extrañe _ ,” José whispers right against James’ mouth. He wants to ask what it means but part of him doesn’t want to know. None of him resists when José slides down to his knees in front of him, fingers going to his belt buckle. 

James bites his fist.

Number eight, he’s not safe, but he’s good. So good and James wishes he was stronger, better. It’s not exactly a chorus of angels as José is sucking him off. It’s not divine providence that James’ hands fit perfectly against José’s slim shoulders. 

His mind slips to his shower thoughts and he wonders if José would let him. He doesn’t ask, just goes along for the ride. He grips at José tightly and muffles himself against his fist so he doesn’t yell. Muffled around his hands, James tries to tell José how close he is. 

He pulls his fist away.

“God, baby, please,” James gasps out. José obliges. He doesn’t stop. He takes James in deeper, looking up at his face through his dark lashes. And James can’t look away, watching now as he José moves his lips up and down his cock-- head bobbing, dark lips and flushed cheeks and wetness gathering in his big brown eyes. 

It’s --

_ Fuck _ . 

Number nine, the guilt slides in and it’s hard for him to shake it. After José has swallowed him down and they’ve cleaned up-- (James isn’t  _ gay _ , really so he does the best he can. Gathers José back to chest and jerks him off with clumsy, almost reluctant movements. He’s sure José notices but he never says anything.) José runs his fingers through James’ short hair and glides blunt nails down the line of his throat-- hard enough to feel but not enough to leave a mark.

“Someday,” James says, out of the blue. But he doesn’t know what. Someday he’ll be better and say no. Someday he’ll be better and give José more. Someday he won’t feel this pulling him further and further from his salvation. 

Someday this won’t be his ultimate act of betrayal to his wife, his faith, everything. 

José just gives him a lopsided smile. 

Then kisses him and James can taste himself on José’s lips.

Number ten, he’s back with Jessica at their home near Lakeland, and they read the bible together. James keeps it together by clenching his fists until his knuckles are white and trying hard not to think about it. He lounges in the bed while she showers and tries to give himself the appropriate punishment to make up for his sin.

(But can one make up, knowing they’re going to do the same thing the next day. Knowing that the pull that has on him is so much stronger than anything else he’s supposed to be anchored to. But he says the right words and ignores the self-doubt-- saying it will make him better, will help him resist, next time.)

When Jessica comes to bed, James gets her beneath him, kisses the hollow of her throat and keeps his head buried there as he makes love to her and tries to remember this is the best thing he has, that he loves her, that this is his family. That she is his foundation. 

In the morning, it’s back to number one. He kisses Jessica and tells her he loves her. But there’s no time for the rest as he gets ready for spring training. He meets José outside and they walk in together, James chatting idly about some game he’d gone to during the offseason. 

José listens. (He’s not safe, not safe, not safe.)

In the locker room, there’s no one else, and James can’t resist pressing his mouth to José’s. 

(But he’s good.) 


End file.
